


Bruce Banner: the best friend Steve and Tony could ask for

by Fanhag102



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bruce Feels, M/M, Steve and Tony are idiots, science BFF's, stark spangled banner friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanhag102/pseuds/Fanhag102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce finds unlikely friendship with both Steve and Tony. But, of course, it can't be that simple.</p><p>His two new friends have to hate each other.  </p><p>(Steve and Tony's budding relationship as seen through Bruce's eyes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruce Banner: the best friend Steve and Tony could ask for

Bruce wasn’t exactly sure whom he liked better: Steve or Tony.

 

He’d certainly been struck by Steve’s kind and obviously sincere personality the first time they met. He made a clear point to assure Bruce that when he looked at him, he didn’t just see a monster. And it was nice, for once, to have someone be that straight with him and to know they weren’t just saying so to make him feel… relaxed. Steve’s intentions were as true as his grip when he first shook Bruce’s hand on the helicarrier. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised, the guy _was_ Captain America and his reputation preceded him.

 

Though not nearly as much as Tony Stark’s preceded _him_. Bruce hadn’t exactly thought Tony would care too much about him. Surely a rich, powerful man like Stark had more important people to worry about than little gamma-ray scientist Bruce Banner (the Other Guy aside). But from the get-go it seemed that Tony was intent on being friends with Bruce. And Bruce found that he actually didn’t mind Tony’s brash, loud, playful personality. As nice as it was for Steve to ignore Bruce’s little green problem, it was just as nice when Tony brought it up without even a flicker of hesitation.

 

Tony was _comfortable_ around him, which was refreshing. Steve wasn’t especially uncomfortable around him, but Bruce had yet to see Steve ever looking as comfortable as Tony looked all the time.

 

Bruce became friends with Tony right away. He hadn’t expected it, but Tony had his own ideas and Bruce didn’t really mind following along with them. Tony talked to him about science at first, but quickly changed their topic of conversation over to The Other Guy. Tony had a lot of opinions and questions for Bruce, and something about the way Tony was made Bruce not really mind too much.

 

Tony was funny and quick with comebacks. He was like the popular kid from high school; the one Bruce was always too busy studying to ever become friends with. At first, Bruce wondered how Tony managed to be such a genius and so cool at the same time without imploding, but then he saw the way Tony drank and the way he shut himself away from others and he thought he understood. They shared that in common too, their isolationism. Once, Bruce mentioned how painful it was, sometimes, to force himself to live alone, even it was in order to protect others.

 

Tony had looked down from his holographic computer screen for a moment and muttered, almost to himself,

 

“I know how that is.”

 

He never went into details, but Bruce had a feeling Tony kept himself away from others in different ways, and for different reasons. That was something Bruce could understand.

 

Bruce sometimes had to keep himself from getting too excited over science when he and Tony were together. The conversations they shared often became random jumbles of numbers and symbols, with biology and physics battling for which was the greater science (a debate the two of them had constantly). They often reached the consensus that chemistry outweighed either one in importance and versatility.

 

Bruce and Tony were on the same wavelength when it came to the intellectual stuff, and even a few personal matters.

 

When Pepper broke up with Tony, though both claimed it to be mutual, Bruce was the one Tony came to. He didn’t cry. In fact, neither one of them mentioned that anything had happened at all—until the end. They spent a whole week down in Tony’s workroom, listening to Tony’s loud classic rock and working on designs and tests for a newer, more efficient fuel for the helicarrier for (Tony liked to say joking), Director Fury’s birthday.  Only when they were finished did Tony finally bite his lip and, in his usual self-deprecating manner, say,

 

“At least I managed to do this right.”

 

He tried to laugh but nothing came out but a soft cough. Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder gently, and Tony turned to him slowly.

 

“You can do a lot of things right, Tony. Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

 

And then Bruce told him about Betty, so Tony would know that Bruce trusted him as much as Tony trusted Bruce. Because Tony trusted Bruce more than most people had ever trusted Bruce in his life (at least, his life since the accident). Tony had trusted that Bruce would be there in the first battle the Avengers fought together, and he trusted Bruce in every battle since. Even more, he trusted Bruce to live with them in his house and spend time with him in his workshop. Tony never judged Bruce when he got angry on accident and caused a mess.

 

And when Bruce asked him why, Tony just replied with a shrug,

 

“Cuz that’s what friends do.”

 

 

Clint called them “science boyfriends,” which Tony just rolled his eyes at but Bruce found oddly accurate. It never failed to make Thor laugh and Steve and Natasha smile. Bruce loved everyone else on the team, but in the beginning Tony was definitely his favorite.

 

Then the parties started, and the press junctures, and the socializing, and everything just blew up in a way Bruce knew he hated but Tony absolutely _thrived_ on. This was something they couldn’t exactly share, but luckily Steve was there to make up for what Tony lacked.

 

Steve was… Well, he had his own problems to deal with, just like Bruce and just like Tony. Bruce understood, and when he wasn’t having science fun with Tony, he liked to spend time with Steve.

 

Steve was quiet, and had little to no knowledge of popular culture—which was to be expected, considering a lot of popular culture was pretty recent and a lot of Steve was still stuck in the 40’s. Bruce didn’t have much knowledge of popular culture either, at least not the American kind, because he’d spent so much time everywhere _but_ American the past few years. Bruce was a bit of an old soul. His favorite music usually came from the 70’s and under. He liked The Beatles and Bob Dylan and after introducing them to Steve had laughed when Steve gave a happy sigh and said,

 

“Thank God. I was starting to worry that all people listened to these days was stuff like that awful Ke$ha.”

 

Being a “nerd” most of his life was something else he had in common with Steve. Though Bruce had used his lack of physical and social skills to become a science genius, Steve kept himself busy back before the serum by taking drawing and painting classes. When he showed some of his sketchbooks to Bruce, the smaller man had been thoroughly impressed.

 

The two shared painful stories about getting turned down by pretty girls and beaten up by bigger guys, but when shared with each other these stories seemed much less painful. Sometimes they would both end up laughing their heads off because of how ridiculously dorky they realized they were. Bruce gave Steve tons of book recommendations when the super soldier revealed how much he used to love to read, and whenever Steve started reading one it would always remind Bruce how great of a book it was so he would decide to reread it himself. Then the two would get together and discuss the plot development and motifs over lunch. Bruce started by giving Steve classics—because who didn’t love the classics—but then he recommended his personal favorites, which tended to be a lot of science fiction works. Eventually he realized that Steve liked sports more than he did, so he made sure to throw in the good few sports novels he’d read before. Steve, of course, loved them, and together they found a great mix of their favorites in a book about an alien baseball team. It was terrible, granted, but it made them laugh for days when they read it.

 

Bruce was surprised, at the first press conference the group had, how uncomfortable Steve seemed. He had been sure that Steve was used to this kind of pleasing-the-general-public kind of thing. He’d seen the old recordings of Cap in all his glory, dancing up on stage with at least 10 pretty girls in uniform. Plus, there were plenty of pictures of Captain America kissing babies and pictures like that with the Hulk were… scarce. Bruce had been sure he would be the only uncomfortable one at the conference, but every time he looked over at Steve the man was fidgeting in his seat and staring determinately at the table in front of him. He only looked up when someone addressed him directly.

 

Tony led the whole thing, of course, with some help from Thor and Fury. Bruce was glad. He spent the entire time wishing it would end faster.

 

When the gang had to attend functions or interact with crowds of people wanting to get their picture taken, Bruce always held back. Most people didn’t mind because most people didn’t even put together that the mild mannered, somewhat shabby looking guy who was always with the Avengers _was_ the Hulk.

 

When it came to interacting with people directly, Steve faired a bit better, but Bruce could still tell how exhausted the whole thing made him when they returned to the Avengers tower and he practically collapsed into the sofa.

 

“Don’t care for this kind of celebrity treatment, huh?” Bruce asked.

 

Steve looked up at him and shook his head.

 

“I hated it from the beginning, and I thought I’d be done with it after being in the ice all those years. I’d hoped people might have forgotten about me a little.”

 

“Even if they had,” Bruce replied, taking a seat beside Steve on Tony’s lush, leather couch, “this whole Avengers thing has made people remember again. I don’t really understand why you don’t like it though. It makes sense for me, but everybody loves you, Cap. How come you don’t like the attention?”

 

“I guess I’m just not used to it like—“ he glanced in the direction of Tony’s workshop, where Tony had shuffled off to as soon as they’d gotten back. Bruce smiled, understanding his meaning, and Steve added with a sigh,

 

“I just want to do my job, you know? Save people.”

 

“Yeah,” Bruce said, “I get it.” And he did.

 

After that, Steve and Bruce always wound up sticking together whenever they had to go out in public as The Avengers. That way, Steve had someone to talk to and Bruce had someone who would help calm him down in case he ever felt like he was on the verge of losing control.

 

Steve was a good guy. After spending time with Tony, Steve’s personality was kind of refreshing. But aside from how good of a person he was, Bruce was just impressed by him, thoroughly impressed.

 

He was impressed by how Steve handled what had happened to him. He was impressed by how Steve handled life in a completely new age (he didn’t think he would have been able to do it). He was impressed with how genuinely decent Steve was as a person. And he was impressed, most of all, by Steve when he became Captain America.

 

Steve always had a plan, always factored everything in, strategized in a way Bruce knew he would never be able to. Steve was a great leader for the team. When they needed to get down to business, Steve was ready, and always gave 150%.

 

Bruce was also impressed by how Steve handled the Other Guy.

 

Steve faced the Hulk with a stern gaze, a straight back, and not an ounce of fear. Bruce could never remember everything that happened while he was the Other Guy, but what he could remember always showed Steve like that—and it was impressive. The other Avengers (especially Tony) weren’t really afraid of the Other Guy either, but Steve could almost control him. When Steve gave the Hulk orders, the Hulk listened.

 

And when he realized that, Bruce realized that he liked Steve. He liked being a dork with Steve, and being awkward at social events with Steve, and recommending books for Steve, and he didn’t even mind being the Other Guy if Steve was there with a plan and orders for him to follow.

 

Bruce never imagined—when he finally agreed to officially join the team—that he would end up with two great friends like Steve and Tony.

 

But of course, it couldn’t be that simple.

 

His two new friends had to _hate_ _each other_.

 

 

 

Okay, maybe hate was too strong a word. They certainly got along much better than they had when they first met. Working together did _wonders_ for their relationship—just not quite enough to compensate for the fact that they were basically complete opposites as people.

 

Tony was loud and fast and new age and knew just about everything there was to know about the day’s technology.

 

Steve was quiet and slow and old-fashioned and knew close to nothing about any technology, much less the technology of the day.

 

Sometimes Bruce wondered if something was wrong with Director Fury’s head for him to put two such opposites on the same team. Then again, all the Avengers sometimes wondered if something was wrong with Director Fury’s head.

 

See, fighting together and cooperating as a team was one thing; living together was something else entirely.

 

Bruce had been nervous when he agreed to live in the Avengers Tower with Tony and the others—but that wasn’t very surprising, considering who he was. He’d been _horrified_ when it was decided that Steve would be moving in as well. Of course Bruce loved Steve, and living together meant they could spend more time hanging out, but it also meant the combining of (as Bruce imagined them in his mind) two slightly unstable chemicals that were Steve and Tony—under the same roof no less.

 

He was surprised the house hadn’t exploded on day one.

 

Though, it had come close, not that that was any fault of either Steve’s or Tony’s. It just so happened that the day Steve moved in was also the day the small band of Chitauri that had survived the nuke to their mother ship decided it was the perfect opportunity to reveal themselves—and what better way to do that than blowing a giant hole through the still-under-reconstruction Stark Tower.

 

Steve hadn’t even set his bags down in his room. He was still in the kitchen, just being introduced to the lovely Pepper when the first explosion went off. Bruce could just remember Steve bent protectively over Pepper as Tony yelled at JARVIS to send up his suit before everything turned a little…green. Bruce assumed that after that Steve and Tony had worked together to make sure Pepper was safe before heading into the battle after the others who had gone right away.

 

The fight hadn’t lasted long; there weren’t very many of the strange aliens to begin with, and once it was over Bruce woke up in Thor’s arms as the God-like man carried him back into the part of the tower that hadn’t been completely destroyed and laid him on a couch to rest. When he woke up the next time it was to the sounds of arguing. Bruce was too tired to really focus in on what was being said, but he knew that it was Tony and Steve who were yelling.

 

Many of their interactions after that were just as tense.

 

Tony had a way of getting under Steve’s skin with almost everything he said. Steve had a way of saying exactly the wrong things to Tony, sometimes without even realizing when he did.

 

The only time they got along at all was during battles. But, battles could be short at times, and when you live with someone, chances are you have to interact with them on a near daily basis.

 

It was about a week after the surprise attack from the Chitauri—Bruce and Tony were down in Tony’s lab working on their own separate projects—when Tony began expressing his ‘feeling’ about the good Captain.

 

“He’s a relic! He can’t take a joke, he never loosens up—not even around Thor, and that guy is a _god_ of comedy, I tell you.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Tony,” Bruce replied with an exasperated shake of his head. “I’ve seen Steve loosen up. He was even playing cards with Clint and Natasha the other night.”

 

“Well I’ve never seen it. If you ask me, he acts like he’s got a big ol’ stick up his—“

 

“Tony,” Bruce interrupted chidingly. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh? Captain’s been nothing but nice to me since the day we met.”

 

He saw Tony roll his eyes and make a face before replying,

 

“Of course he’s nice to _you_. He’s probably scared you’re gonna hulk out and rip his pretty little blond head off. I’ll bet he’s secretly a huge coward with a phobia of green people.”

 

Bruce laughed and shook his head.

 

“Come on, Tony. You’re calling _Captain America_ a coward? That’s a stretch, even for you. I’ll bet you used to look up to him when you were a kid. He’s an American legend!”

 

“Sure I did,” Tony quipped. “Before I knew he was such a—“ he searched momentarily for the right word and smirked proudly when he found it, “—Fuddy-duddy.”

 

Bruce paused and looked up from the computer screen where he was reading an article highlighting the recent work of a brilliant professor by the name of Elizabeth Ross. He turned to Tony and took off his glasses, pointing them at the other man for emphasis as he said bluntly,

 

“You know, I think I know exactly why you can’t stand Steve.”

 

Tony looked up from his own work with a dubious expression.

 

“Enlighten me, oh Wise One.”

 

A grin grew on Bruce’s face.

 

“I don’t think you have any idea how to act around Cap.”

 

“What!?” Tony exclaimed with an expression of exaggerated shock.

 

“You don’t!” Bruce continued, still pointing his glasses accusingly at the baffled billionaire. “He’s not like anyone you’ve ever had to interact with before. He’s serious and steadfast and actually, you know, a _decent_ person.”

 

“You’re a decent person,” Tony countered quickly. “Pepper’s decent, Rhodey’s—“

 

“Not like Cap,” Bruce replied, his grin still present because he knew his argument was a good one. “Steve is apple-pie, good. He’s baseball good. He’s government trusting, everybody’s best friend, church-going, family man, good.”

 

Tony stared at Bruce from across the room and Bruce continued, confident his argument was winning,

 

“And you have no idea what to do with somebody like that. I think Cap has you stumped, and that’s why you keep butting heads with him.” Bruce paused and put his glasses back on his face. He shrugged and finished lightly,

 

“Maybe if you actually tried to get to the know the man beneath all that hype you would actually like him.”

 

Tony was quiet for a while. Bruce gave another shrug and turned back to his computer. A second later he heard Tony shuffle some machinery behind him and mutter softly,

 

“Well, whatever. I still say he’s a fuddy-duddy.”

 

 

Steve, despite all the “hype,” wasn’t a whole lot better when it came to dealing with Tony.

 

“He’s infuriating, Bruce! How can you stand him?” the super soldier exclaimed one afternoon after he and Bruce had just finished discussing their most recent book. The conversation had taken a turn towards the most infamous Avenger and Bruce had foolishly asked the question, “what don’t you like about Tony?”

 

Steve’s expression had promptly turned downward. He sprung from his chair and paced from the living room to the kitchen as he answered.

 

“He’s always got something to say, but it’s never anything actually intelligent! Just some stupid remark that’s supposed to be ‘funny.’ Maybe to him it is, but not everything is a joke, you know! And he sure gets in a lot of trouble for someone who’s supposed to be a genius.”

 

“You’ve got to cut him some slack, Steve,” Bruce tried to reason, following the taller man into the kitchen. “He wasn’t exactly raised in your average, loving American household. He just likes attention, is all. You’ve got to learn to ignore him when he makes those stupid jokes.”

 

“But not everything he jokes about is stupid, Bruce. And he isn’t doing himself any favors with that reputation of his. I’ve never liked men who care more about their reputations then themselves. His dad was the same way. I can see where he got it! At least Howard had some understanding of common courtesy. Tony just says whatever sprouts into his head in any given moment.”

 

Bruce sighed. He wasn’t sure if he should be the one to tell Steve about Tony’s less-than-wonderful relationship with his late father. He decided against it and went about defending Tony another way.

 

“Steve, what’s the real reason you don’t like Tony? You can get along with almost everyone else. Clint makes stupid jokes too, and Thor is just as bigheaded as Tony when it comes to ego. You never get into arguments with either of them. What is it about Tony that you can’t seem to get over?”

 

Steve didn’t reply for a moment, and his expression appeared to show that he was pondering the question very earnestly. Finally he took a deep breath, staring out of the large kitchen window as he replied softly,

 

“I… I don’t really know, Bruce. I feel like there’s a lot of tension between us. No matter how hard I try to keep my cool, he always finds a way to push my buttons and make me react. We’re too different, I think. We’re practically from different worlds.”

 

He was quiet after that, still staring out the window with a complex expression on his face. Bruce didn’t say anything else either, but he thought about what Steve said, and what Tony said, and wondered if maybe the problem was something beyond the differences in their personalities and ideals… he just wasn’t sure what that problem might be.

 

 

It only got worse after Tony and Pepper broke up. Tony took to avoiding almost everyone on the team for at least two weeks. His bad mood made him mess up in the field when he wasn’t paying attention to Captain’s orders. He and Steve were nearly at blows that day, both still in their suits and raring to go before the Other Guy stepped in and roughly pulled them apart. Bruce had this explained to him by Natasha later, when he visited her bedroom; she’d been confined there once Clint realized how serious some of her wounds were. She’d been hurt in the fight, though she vehemently denied that it was anyone’s fault beside her own. Steve and Tony argued about _that_ too.

 

Bruce had the lovely misfortune that evening of overhearing a particularly vicious argument between the two of them that, quite frankly, stressed him out way more than he would have liked.

 

“—cannot be distracted by outside influences, Stark! There were lives on the line, and there always will be in these kinds of fights. I will not rely on an emotionally unstable—“

“I am fully aware, _Captain_ , of the lives on the line and my emotional state, I want to be clear, has zero effect on my work in the field!“

 

Bruce heard the _clink_ of ice in a glass and felt his stomach drop, thinking dismally, _Tony…_

Steve must have thought the same thing. There was a painful silence, and when Steve spoke again, it was much quieter than before, but the intent behind it was twice as sharp. His words were low and barbed as he muttered softly,

 

“You really don’t know how to handle anything without drinking, do you?”

 

“You _really_ don’t want to go there with me,” Tony countered lowly.

 

“You said you’d been doing better. I heard you telling Director Fury that you’d cut down on your drinking and you were trying to do right by Pepp—“

 

“Are you going to preach to me? Is that what this is? I liked it better when you were yelling. Come on, what else you got? Wanna take this outside, Captain? I’ll put on the suit right now. Let’s go. Bring it.”

 

“No,” Steve replied calmly. “I won’t take your bait. You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Tony, but I do. I was watching you in the field, you know. I’m the leader, I pay attention to my men, and I _know_ when I’ve got a suicidal soldier out there. I gave you clear orders and you didn’t listen. You went in headfirst, kamikaze style.” There was a pause. Bruce heard Thor on the phone with Jane upstairs. Then,

 

“Do you have any idea how scared I was? You think I’d want to be the one to explain to Pepper—“

 

“Don’t—“

 

“—that you died because you weren’t strong enough to handle a little break-up?”

 

“Pepper wouldn’t—“

 

“Don’t you dare,” Steve growled, and Bruce imagined that he was pointing a finger straight at Tony as he said, “try and say that Pepper wouldn’t care. I know the kind of woman she is, Stark, apparently better than you do. Just because she left doesn’t mean that she doesn’t care about you anymore.”

 

There was a creak of the floorboards and when Steve spoke again it became apparent to Bruce that he was leaving, heading up the stairs back to his bedroom.

 

“You had better get that through your thick skull, Tony. If you ever try something like what you did today again, I will do everything in my power to make sure you never have access to that suit again. Pepper’s not the only one who’d cry if you died. You should remember that.”

 

Tony stood in the dark kitchen alone for a while after Steve left. Bruce wondered if he should go comfort him, but decided against it. He agreed with what Steve said, and he’d never forgive Tony if he purposefully put himself in harm’s way and wound up dead because of it. Bruce quietly returned downstairs and, though he felt bad about eavesdropping on his friends, was glad that _someone_ had the balls to tell Tony the unpleasant things he needed to hear. He wondered if maybe Steve liked Tony a little bit more than even the good Captain himself realized.

 

 

After that incident, something very obviously changed in Steve and Tony’s relationship. It was almost palpable—even Thor noticed it.

 

“Has something occurred,” he began, glancing between Steve and Tony as they sat quietly across from each other at breakfast, “between the fast-talking Stark and kind Rogers that I was not present for? There is a certain lack of verbal daggers this morning that I find most curious.”

 

Steve and Tony glanced at each other then quickly looked away.

 

“Big guy’s right,” Clint added, glancing between them as he prepared a plate of food to take up to Natasha who was still stuck in her room. “Somethin’ happened between you two. Did you finally sit down and talk about your feelings with each other? Or did Fury just yell at you to take your heads outta your asses after whatever the hell happened in the field yesterday?”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tony replied with a poker face he’d probably perfected by age twelve.

 

“Me neither,” Steve added, looking down at his plate and taking another big bite of scrambled eggs. His bluff wasn’t nearly as good as Tony’s—his ears even turned a little pink as he determinedly looked anywhere but the other side of the table.

 

Bruce saw Tony glance at Steve and noticed the corner of his mouth twitch upwards, as though he found it a bit funny how bad Steve was at lying. It only lasted for a moment, though, and then Tony went back to quietly eating his breakfast and reading the paper.

 

Now, it wasn’t as though Steve and Tony stopped arguing entirely. They still found ways to get under each other’s skin, but now their fights were more reserved, maybe even more playful.

 

They also started to interact more outside of work. Steve agreed to spar with Tony some days and then there were a few times when Steve came down to the workshop to hang out with Tony and Bruce as he drew something in his sketchbook.

 

And after a while, Steve didn’t frown every time Tony cracked a joke. Sometimes he even laughed. And it did not escape Bruce’s notice how Tony smiled wider when he got the Captain to laugh. Tony and Steve started having real conversations as well, not just about the Avengers or battle tactics. Bruce had a sneaking suspicion that some of these conversations got pretty deep. He had no proof of this, only speculation. But he was a scientist, and if scientists were good at one thing, it’s speculation. He saw them together some times, leaning into each other’s space as they spoke softly. They had that look about them that people often do when they have shared meaningful stories between them.

 

Bruce was pleased by this new development. In the beginning.

 

But the more time Steve and Tony spent together, the _tenser_ things became between them. Bruce sat in on one of their sparring matches and could feel the intensity behind every jab and dodge. And then when it was over, could hear something strange and unspoken in the words they shot back at each other before Steve headed upstairs and Tony down. Bruce wasn’t sure what to make of this odd stress between them, but he knew it couldn’t be good. He was sort of a professional when it came to stress and he knew that no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it always found a way to blow up in your face.

 

If he’d thought Steve was uncomfortable before, it was nothing compared to how he was now. Even Tony seemed a little off whenever Steve was around. Their relationship had never been better, but Bruce had a feeling it had also never been worse.

 

What was he supposed to do about that?

 

 

He was sitting in the kitchen one day as Tony and Steve came in from having spent all day doing interviews and photoshoots. Bruce wasn’t surprised—Captain America and Iron Man were the Avengers’ most popular members. He was just glad he didn’t have to go with them for once. When they entered, Tony (well _he_ certainly looked to be in a good mood) nudged Steve (was he _blushing_?) who laughed and tried to loosen his tie. Tony then pointed towards the stairs and said in a strangely mothering voice, "Upstairs. Shower. now. I'm 90% sure that baby vomited on you, we just haven't found where yet. You up for Mario kart after?”

 

Steve replied with his smile, the one that just _screams_ Captain goddamn America and no, Bruce did not miss the way Tony reacted to that smile, all giddy and flustered when Steve headed up the stairs, calling back,

 

“Sure. Maybe I’ll finally beat you this time!”

 

“Not likely,” Tony called up the stairs after him, grinning from ear to ear, “But that’s very optimistic of you!”

 

And Tony didn’t _stop_ smiling as he turned around and took off his jacket, glancing around the room and absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the arc reactor in his chest. He froze as soon as he noticed Bruce sitting at the kitchen counter, staring at him with an expression of amused aloofness.

 

“Banner!” Tony said, easing into the chair across from Bruce and sliding his phone out of his pocket. “I’ve been meaning to show you something. I was struck last night, divine inspiration kinda thing, and I got this great idea for a—oh I’ll just show you.“

 

“Fuddy-duddy, huh?”

 

Tony, as Bruce could have predicted, pretended not to hear him.

 

“Hmm?” he hummed, tapping away at his phone, his eyes angled down to avoid Bruce’s gaze.

 

“You and Steve seem to be… getting along better lately,” Bruce offered; he was smirking because he knew that everything he’d said to Tony about getting to know Steve better had turned out completely as he’d predicted—and he knew Tony knew it too.

 

“Yeah, he’s,” Tony finally looked up from him phone and shrugged, still not catching Bruce’s eye. “He’s alright. You know, for somebody who still doesn’t understand the charm of reality television.”

 

Bruce rolled his eyes.

 

“I was just going to make some dinner,” he said, kindly changing the subject, though he wasn’t entirely done teasing Tony; he would bring it up later. “You or Steve want anything?”

 

“Uh, we just ate, actually.”

 

Bruce couldn’t help himself. Seeing Tony this uncomfortable was too much fun to just ignore.

 

“Oh? Where’d you go?” he asked, standing and walking over to the fridge to make himself a stir-fry with some of the vegetables that were about to go bad.

 

“Steve took me to this little diner downtown. He was freakishly excited about it—like puppy levels of excitement—but he said it’d been there since he was a kid, had a bunch of sentimental value, yadda, yadda.”

 

“Sounds nice,” Bruce replied with a smile.

 

He had a sneaking suspicion Tony thought he wasn’t looking as the billionaire murmured, “It actually was…” and smiled warmly as he remembered it.

 

Bruce was just scooping his stir-fry onto a plate when Steve walked downstairs, freshly showered, drying his hair with a towel he then hung around his neck as he smiled at Tony, then at Bruce.

 

“Hey Bruce! Tony and I were gonna play some Mario kart. I’m sure you could join us if you wanted.”

 

Bruce lifted his plate up and shrugged.

 

“Maybe after I eat. Tony might as well have _some_ competition.”

 

Steve’s shoulder’s drooped cartoonishly but then he smiled as Tony handed him the wiimote.

 

“I’m really getting better lately! It’s not my fault I’d never played a video game before now.”

 

“Should we ask the others if they wanna play too?” Tony asked as the home screen for the wii popped up and he selected Mario kart.

 

“Everyone’s gone,” Bruce replied, swallowing a large bite or stir-fry. “Clint and Natasha are both off on S.H.I.E.L.D. business. They left this morning.”

 

“Thor?”

 

Bruce just shrugged and Tony hummed to himself as Steve sat down beside him on the couch.

 

“Just the three of us, huh? We should do something.”

 

“I’m up for a video game marathon,” Bruce offered. “Or movies. What do you say, Steve?”

 

“Uh, either is fine with me. Tony?”

 

“Whatever. As long as we don’t wind up reenacting a scene from some chick flick where the girls all bond after crying together over some shared trauma. If any crying goes down, I’m gonna need something to drink.”

 

 

 

It wasn’t surprising, really. They all had issues, more issues than they usually let on, and after several hours of video games and more than a few drinks (though these of course had no effect on Steve) their mouths started talking about these issues even if their brains hadn’t wanted them to.

 

It probably started with Tony’s drinking. Steve had berated him for it and Bruce had joined in, hoping that maybe together they could convince Tony that the habit was a bad one. Of course Tony had gotten defensive, evasive, and then downright mean. Until, that is, Steve offhandedly mentioned that his father had been a drunk. Both Tony and Bruce had shut up then, and Steve had just looked straight at Tony without an ounce of hesitation and said,

 

“I know Howard was too. He wasn’t that bad when I knew him but he had all the potential. I can’t say I’m completely surprised by what he became.”

 

Tony, looking as though he’d been physically struck, turned to stare at the floor. It was too quiet, too chokingly silent, and Bruce lowered his gaze and murmured,

 

“Mine too…”

 

Both Steve and Tony turned to him with wide eyes. 

 

“My dad. He was… He was a physicist. And an alcoholic. And insane.”

 

They kept staring at him—his two friends whom he trusted more than he’d trusted anyone in a long time—and he felt words slip from his mouth before he could stop them.

 

“He hated me. He would get drunk and he’d tell me that, over and over. He called me a monster, and he hated me because my—my mom loved me. He thought I took her attention away from him. And one day he was drunk and got—he got so, _so_ mad and he…”

 

Bruce swallowed, panicking for a moment as he felt the room press in on him. He was feeling stressed, but he couldn’t stop. They might as well know. He’d already come this far.

 

“He killed her. Right in front of me. And t—then he made me lie about it in court and I _did_! I actually listened to the foul, lying, crazy son-of-a—“

 

“Bruce!” Steve’s voice penetrated his panic and he could hear frantic beeping just below the pounding sound of his pulse and fear gripped him when he realized that it was his heart rate monitor that was beeping and it was beeping fast, far too fast. He closed his eyes tight and took deep breaths. He should have known—how could he have been that stupid—he _knew_ what talking about his father did to him!

 

“You’re okay, Bruce,” Tony was talking to him now, his voice raw, but grounding and firm. He opened his mouth to tell them to get away. He knew what would happen next; they needed to get away while they still could. Steve cut him off before he even got the chance.

 

“We’re here, Bruce. We’re here with you now. Stay in control. You can do it.”

 

“I really like this couch, man. It’d suck if I had to buy a new one.”

 

And with that, Bruce let out a gasped laugh. The tension stopped building underneath his skin and his heart rate slowly settled back down. He opened his eyes and saw Steve exhale, wiping his forehead with his hand. Tony smiled weakly and collapsed into the couch he’d just helped save the day with.

 

“Told you, Cap. Humor is the solution to all situations,” Tony huffed, smirking in Steve’s direction. Steve rolled his eyes—he looked exhausted—but smiled in reply.

 

“You win this one, Iron Man. How’re you doing, Bruce? Are we alright?”

 

Bruce was still breathing heavily but he looked at Steve’s face, attempted a smile (it came out more like a grimace) and nodded.

 

“They don’t put _that_ in the information packet,” Tony said with a sigh. “So we all had alcoholic fathers, huh? I guess that explains some things.”

 

Bruce and Steve both looked at him questioningly.

 

“We’re all fucked up. I’m, you know, borderline alcoholic myself, narcissistic, self-deprecating, and all-around asshole. Steve hates bullies and has an obsession with saving people, probably leftovers from a shitty home-life as a kid. And Bruce, you created, you know, The Other Guy.”

 

Bruce frowned and replied slowly,

 

“…You think the Other Guy is someone I created to deal with the anger I feel towards my father?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony shrugged, as though it was just that simple. “With some gamma radiation to juice him up, sure, but I’ll bet he was there all along, just waiting for you to let him out.”

 

Bruce had never thought about it like that. But there was a flaw in Tony’s reasoning, and that flaw was Steve.

 

 

Hating bullies (no matter how strong that hatred) wasn’t uncommon, and Bruce didn’t think Steve’s “daddy-issues” as Tony referred to them every time after that initial night of bonding, were limited to those strong feelings. Because he had been too busy ruminating over Tony’s theory about the Other Guy, Bruce hadn’t really paid any mind to Steve when Tony had given his opinions on how his shitty childhood had fucked him up. But, thinking back on it, he could almost recall Steve flinching away from Tony when the fast-talking man had even mentioned his name. Maybe it was just a hunch, but the more Bruce thought about it, the stronger his suspicion became that Steve was hiding something else below that exterior of “the all-American boy.” Though he probably should have left it alone, he couldn’t help but wonder what that thing might be.

 

He began observing Steve—just subtly, but enough to pick up on a few things he’d never really thought much about before.

 

Steve was insecure; it was hard to notice at first, mostly because the very idea of it was mind-boggling. He was practically perfect, girls fell on him wherever he went, not to mention the whole “national icon” thing. For someone like Steve to be self-conscious was like Natasha being innocent and nervous during sex (not that she ever talked about her sex life, but they all just assumed).

 

It wasn’t like Steve ever complained about himself (Bruce was sure men didn’t do that kind of thing back in the day), and he wasn’t nearly as self-deprecating as Tony, but Steve’s general manner was that of an unconfident person. Until he put on the suit, that is. As soon as the cowl was up, he transformed—and that was all well and good, but it didn’t change the fact that sometimes, when Steve was just Steve, he looked like he didn’t quite feel right in his own skin.

 

Another interesting thing Bruce began to notice about Steve was the way he acted around Tony.

 

Now that they were on friendly terms the two wound up spending hours and hours together. Sometimes it would be for official Avengers business, but most of the time it was just to hang out. They sparred, played video games, ate together, and when Tony locked himself in his workroom Steve sometimes locked himself in there with him. Bruce wasn’t the only one was surprised by this. All of the other Avengers couldn’t quite figure out how Steve managed to put up with Tony for all that time, but he did, and he even seemed to enjoy it.

 

Sooner or later, Bruce began to notice the way Steve looked at Tony. It was subtle, so subtle that Bruce couldn’t be 100% sure what he saw was really what he saw. But there were times when Steve thought no one was looking where he would just stare at Tony with a kind of soft expression that Bruce just didn’t think anyone else looked at Tony with. This was particularly odd considering how Steve had acted around Tony when they first met—but again, Bruce couldn’t be _completely_ sure what Steve’s looks meant _._

 

Tony was much more obvious in the way _he_ looked at Steve.

 

“No, Tony,” Bruce said one day as he and Tony were down in the workshop. Steve had just walked far enough away from them so he was out of earshot and began having a conversation with Natasha.

 

Tony looked up from what he was doing and over at Bruce. He raised an eyebrow and replied,

 

“No what?”

 

“No,” Bruce repeated more firmly.

 

“No _what_?” Tony asked, looking around him for some explanation for Bruce’s strange behavior. He turned back to Bruce, utterly baffled.

 

Bruce stared back at him, tight-lipped and shaking his head, until he finally jerked his head over in Steve’s direction. He caught Tony’s eye and repeated, voice even more firm than before,

 

“No _that_.”

 

Tony glanced over at Steve who happened to be wearing his Captain America uniform at the time; he’d just gotten back from a lone mission on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. and had promptly come down to say hi to Tony and Bruce before even changing back into his regular clothes. Bruce followed Tony’s gaze as—yep, there it was, that hungry, wolfish look—the genius let his eyes travel up and down the length of Steve’s suit. Bruce didn’t have to have Xavier’s powers of mind reading to know that Tony was currently admiring to himself how tight Cap’s suit was in all the right places.

 

After a minute he turned back to Bruce and gave the other man an unapologetic, wide-toothed grin that stretched from ear to ear. Bruce just shook his head and glared.

 

“No, Tony,” he repeated, though he knew it was a lost cause.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tony said quickly, returning to his work and leaving Bruce to glare at his back. Then, he added lightly, “Can’t a guy admire the view?”

 

Bruce just groaned and seriously considered banging his head against the table repeatedly until he either passed out or hulked out—preferably the latter so there would be a chance he might smack Tony around a bit and be able to blame it on gamma radiation.

 

 

So, somehow Bruce’s two friends had gone from hating each other to, well, he wasn’t exactly sure.

 

See, it wasn’t as if Bruce was completely against Tony lusting after Steve; he just didn’t think it was a very good idea. Even if Steve _maybe, possibly, somehow_ liked Tony back in the same way, there was still a very slim chance that this would work out… well. Steve was, well Steve was Steve and Tony was, unfortunately, Tony. Not that that stopped them even a little bit, but still.

 

And at first, that had been Bruce’s biggest fear; that it would end badly. But as it (whatever _it_ was) progressed, Bruce started to worry about other things—namely, his sanity.

 

After the revelation that Tony wanted a bit more from Cap than just friendship, it became clear to Bruce that some part of Steve wanted somewhat of the same thing from Tony. When Bruce put this together, that was when things really began to get on his nerves.

 

It was obvious they had tension between them; even Bruce could see that (even _Thor_ could see that and wow, wasn’t _that_ a fun dinner conversation), but apparently the same two people who _had_ the tension could _not_ see it, despite the fact that it was giant and looming over them during every sparring match and freaking _conversation_ they had together. But of course, instead of acting like mature adults, both Steve and Tony insisted on dealing with this tension like two teenagers who _did nothing but get on Bruce’s nerves._

 

Bruce tried to stay out of it; it wasn’t, after all, his business. But how was he supposed to stay out of it when his two best friends decided that _he_ was the one person with whom they needed to share their many, many feelings with?

 

“Do you think Steve’s avoiding me? Did I do something, besides, you know, be myself? Because I really think—“

 

“Tony,” Bruce said, a headache already starting to form near the base of his skull. He felt his teeth grind together as he looked up from a computer screen and turned to Tony slowly. “Shut up. I doubt that Steve is avoiding you, but if he is I’m sure it’s for a perfectly good reason, like he finally noticed the drool you leave behind whenever he walks around without his shirt on.”

 

Tony frowned and pointed at Bruce seriously.

 

“That’s not my fault. He shouldn’t be walking around without a shirt on—“ Bruce rolled his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh, “—it isn’t decent, all those muscles gleaming like he’s just been oiled up for a porno—“

 

This time Bruce cut him off with a pained groan. He loved Tony, but sometimes the man really didn’t know when to shut the hell up.

 

“God, if it’s that distracting just hurry up and do something about it!”

 

That shut Tony up. When the billionaire’s silence went on longer than ten seconds Bruce turned to him to make sure he hadn’t spontaneously combusted from the very idea. He saw Tony staring at the floor, his eyebrows scrunched together anxiously, an unhappy frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

 

“No,” he murmured to himself. He looked up and glanced around his workshop like he was desperately searching for something to do. He bit his lip and shook his head, walking over to some engine he’d stopped working on ages ago.

 

“No,” he repeated, again to himself. “I can’t do anything.”

 

Bruce didn’t say anything else; frankly, he was too surprised to say anything else. If Tony just wanted something physical with Steve, Bruce had no doubt that Tony would be _actively_ trying to achieve that something, but from the reaction Tony had just given it seemed almost like Tony was refraining from doing anything because he wanted something _more_ with Steve. Bruce couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.

 

 

Steve, as it turned out, was no better for Bruce’s nerves than Tony. It appeared that the moment down in Tony’s lab marked some sort of a revelation for Tony, because promptly after that he began avoiding Steve—something that did not go unnoticed by the other party.

 

“Tony isn’t…” Steve began one day as he and Bruce were watching TV in the living room. He stopped halfway through and sighed. Bruce braced himself for whatever trip Steve might lay on him and, sure enough, when Steve looked over at him it was with those big, blue Captain America eyes and Bruce just knew he wouldn’t be able to deny Steve the truth if it really came down to it.

 

“He isn’t mad about anything, is he?”

 

“How should I know?” Bruce replied, trying to act nonchalant but avoiding Steve’s gaze.

 

“Well you’re his friend—“

 

“So are you,” Bruce countered, hoping Steve might take the hint that he should really try and figure out his own problems without involving Bruce in them, please.

 

“Yeah but he actually talks to you about stuff.”

 

Bruce just snorted and rolled his eyes.

 

“Tony doesn’t _talk_ to people about stuff. He’s not that kinda guy, Cap.”

 

“But when he broke up with Pepper—“

 

“I never asked him to talk about it. I did my best to be there for him, just like you did, Steve.”

 

Steve turned to stare down into his lap, his fingers locked together nervously.

 

“I don’t think I was really there for him. I just made him mad.” Steve then made a frustrated noise and stood from the couch.

 

“He’s just so infuriating, you know, Bruce?”

 

And yes, Bruce was _fully_ aware of that aspect of Tony’s personality but—hadn’t they had this conversation before?

 

“We were hanging out, we were talking and I thought, well, maybe he was starting to like me a little—“

 

 _Oh, you have no idea,_ Bruce thought, but astutely kept it to himself.

 

“—and then he pulls this avoiding me crap for no reason! I tried to ask him what was wrong but of course he said it was nothing. He never talks about things, Bruce! It’s gonna make him sick someday.”

 

Steve slumped back into the couch, crossing his arms and pouting at the TV screen.

 

Bruce kind of figured he should say something, but couldn’t think of anything _to_ say, so he just quietly returned to watching TV, hoping that his two idiot friends would figure this out on their own. He should have known that was far too optimistic a hope.

 

 

Really, Bruce thought as he sat awkwardly between Steve and Tony at dinner a few nights later, it was Clint’s fault. Quite a few things that occurred in Avengers Tower were, in fact, Clint’s fault, and the awkward dinner that Bruce had to suffer painfully through was one of them.

 

Clint had decided he wanted to have Team Dinners and planned them for Thursdays. He talked everyone on the team into coming, even Tony, who had only agreed to go when he knew that everyone would be there and he was safe from any awkwardness that might occur if he and Steve wound up alone.

 

Thor had been the first to drop out of dinner. He apologized profusely before leaving but informed them all that there was a chance that his brother had escaped the Asgardian prison they’d been keeping him in and he must return to Asgard in order to assure his continued imprisonment. Considering the damage Loki did the last time he was free, the other Avengers were rather understanding when it came to letting Thor off the hook for dinner.

 

Natasha was the second one to dismiss dinner. Though, in all fairness, the mission had come in very late and it wasn’t the kind of mission someone turned down because they had previous dinner plans. A random S.H.I.E.L.D. agent came to collect her right in the middle of dinner preparations. She gave a shrug and followed the agent out the door, apologizing to Steve and Bruce as she went.

 

Clint just never showed up, and Tony could have killed him. They found out later, much to Bruce’s and Tony’s chagrin, that Clint had simply found a small, high-up place in the tower and _slept through_ the stupid dinner that had been his stupid idea in the first place.

 

So, dinner wound up being just Bruce, Tony, and Steve. Bruce didn’t have too high hopes for the evening, considering that the last time the three of them spent time together he’d come very dangerously close to a full-scale Hulk-out and no, he just didn’t think he wanted _that_ to happen again. But he couldn’t exactly get out of it now that they were all sat down at the table, plates of food in front of them and a dead silence hanging in the air that no one seemed brave enough to penetrate.

 

Eventually Bruce decided he’d rather _rip his own hair out_ than sit through the entire dinner in awful silence with tension pulsing around them that seemed liable to blow up in their faces at any moment.

 

“So, this is perfectly awful. Can we drop the silent treatment? We’re big boys now.”

 

“He started it,” Tony muttered into his mashed potatoes.

 

Bruce wanted to bang his head on the table. He saw Steve flinch and frown.

 

“That’s really mature, Tony, good job,” he spat back and whoops, there went Bruce’s heart rate. “I didn’t start a damn thing and you know it.”

 

“Careful Cap. Them’s fightin’ words.”

 

“Tony—“

 

“If you two start fighting at this dinner table I will purposefully Hulk out, smash your heads together, and toss you out the window,” Bruce interrupted firmly, taking his time to glare at both Steve and Tony individually before he sighed and continued.

 

“Now, we are going to sit at this table and discuss this calmly—no arguments. You guys are my best friends, all right? I can’t have you _fighting_ with each other all the time. We’re going to start with Steve because he’s finished his vegetables first— _no arguments, Tony_ —and then you can give a rebuttal. Steve?”

 

Steve sighed, looking a bit embarrassed by his behavior ( _as he should,_ Bruce thought), but nodded and began,

 

“I—uh, I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Bruce. I’d really like to know what I did to have Tony start avoiding me.”

 

Bruce turned to Tony and gave him an encouraging smile. When Tony rolled his eyes he kicked him under the table.

 

“Ow! Fine, Jesus! Captain Perfect over here is the one who started avoiding me first!”

 

“That’s ridiculous, Tony. Why would I need to avoid you?”

 

“You tell me. All I knew is that you got weird after I made that comment about my dad. I know you were friends with the guy but he was kinda an asshole to me. Sorry if you have a hard time accepting that—“

 

“I didn’t get weird, Tony! I tried to talk to you about it but no! Tony Stark doesn’t _talk_ about things, just keeps them bottled up and—“

 

“What’s there to talk about, Steve? How much more you liked my dad than you like me? Thanks but no thanks, I can live without that talk.”

 

Steve didn’t cut him off this time and it was clear from the set of Tony’s face that he hadn’t meant to let that slip out.

“Tony,” Steve said softly. “You can’t compare yourself with your father. I never have, and I—if you must know, I like you much more than I ever liked your father. He never helped me with things or showed me how stuff worked like you do. You’re one of the only people who’s actually made me feel welcome in this new time.”

 

Bruce held his breath. Maybe they were on the edge of a breakthrough and he would finally be able to stop worrying about them.

 

“Whatever,” Tony snorted, crossing his arms and staring at the blank wall beside him.

 

Bruce could have punched him. Steve looked like he _had_ been punched. It took him a second but then he regained his composure and glared, gritting his teeth, at Tony. He stood, kicking his chair out from under the table, and stomped up the stairs to his room. Bruce didn’t miss how Tony flinched when the sound of Steve slamming his bedroom door resonated through what felt like the entire tower.

 

Tony and Bruce sat at the table in silence for a minute before Tony bit his lip absentmindedly, pointedly avoiding Bruce’s gaze. Bruce shook his head, making a disappointed sound in his throat.

 

“That’s a pretty big tell for someone who gambles as much as you.”

 

Tony gave no reply, just stared at Bruce blankly. Bruce bit his own lip in demonstration and something close to realization flickered in Tony’s eyes before he could stop it.

 

“Why’d you lie to him, Tony? That’s the part I don’t get. This was never about your father. You just said that to distract him.”

 

“So?” Tony finally replied.

 

“So, what’s the point? What don’t you want him to know?”

 

No reply. Fine, if Tony was going to be difficult then Bruce would just come out and say it for him.

 

“You like him, don’t you?” Bruce knew Tony wouldn’t reply, so he pressed on. “You like him and you don’t want him to find out. Why?”

 

At first it seemed like Tony really wasn’t going to say anything, but Bruce was _not_ giving up that easily.

 

“I’m your friend, Tony. You can tell me.”

 

“He’s too nice!” Tony burst loudly, like he’d been holding it in for days. “He’s too pure, and good, and nice, just like you said he was. And somebody like me can’t mess with that much niceness. Not that I’d have a chance anyway. He’s way too _nice_ to look at someone like me.”

 

It took Bruce a moment to recover from that, but when he did he had to smile. For a genius, Tony could be really dumb sometimes.

 

“Tony…” Bruce began with a sigh. “Nice people don’t necessarily fall in love with nice people.”

 

Tony inhaled sharply then raised an eyebrow and smiled; it was the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

 

“Not even gonna bother trying to convince me of my niceness?”

 

Bruce rolled his eyes.

 

“Like you’d listen to me if I did.”

 

Tony’s smile widened, but it still felt sad.

 

“Fair enough.”

 

“So,” Bruce pressed hopefully. “About Steve…?”

 

“What do you want me to do, huh, Bruce? I fucked up my last relationship—don’t say it wasn’t my fault—and Steve is goddam perfect, and I don’t wanna risk ruining our friendship—“

 

“Little late for that, don’t you think? You’re _avoiding_ him.”

 

“I won’t, I mean, I don’t care if he’s pissed at me I just—“

 

He seemed to lose the words and Bruce asked softly,

 

“How much do you like him, Tony?”

 

Tony just looked up at him with those big eyes and gave another sad smile.

 

“Too much,” he replied before standing and retreating down into his lab, leaving Bruce to decide what to do next.

 

He was done waiting for Steve and Tony to figure it out themselves. Clearly if he left it up to them they would find some way to screw it up. He got up from the table and headed straight to Steve’s room. When he got to the door he knocked tentatively. As Steve opened it was clear from the look on his face that he’d been hoping it was someone else at his door instead of Bruce.

 

“Oh…” he’d said, “Hey Bruce. Sorry for… dinner.”

 

“Don’t sweat it, Steve,” Bruce replied. “Can I come in for a sec?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Steve moved and let Bruce pass through the doorway into his room. He ambled to the window and looked out over New York. A minute later Steve cleared his throat and asked gently,

 

“Something you wanted to talk about, Bruce?”

 

“I haven’t had a look at your sketchbooks in a while. May I?” he asked, bending down and picking up a stray sketchbook that was laying facedown on Steve’s bed. He noticed a slight blush run into Steve’s cheeks and for a moment Bruce thought Steve was going to snatch the book away from him, but he didn’t, just nodded jerkily and looked away as Bruce opened it to a random page.

 

Sure enough, the random page he’d opened to showed a beautiful colored pencil drawing of the back of Tony’s head and neck, his hair shaded so perfectly it seemed to Bruce that he could almost reach out and it would be soft to the touch. The next few pages he turned to showed similar drawings. He hummed something in the back of his throat, proud that his assumption had been spot on.

 

“These weren’t in here last time you showed me your sketchbook.”

 

“Y-yeah,” Steve nodded, rubbing his arm nervously. “They’re new.”

 

“They’re very good.” He turned a page and snorted when he saw a cartoon of Tony and Clint arguing and Natasha sharpening her knives in the background. He looked up and caught Steve’s eye, closing the sketchbook gently and placing it back on the bed.

 

“If you don’t mind me asking, Steve… what exactly are you waiting for?”

 

Steve didn’t seem to understand him at first, but then he nodded to the sketchbook and Steve blushed again, turning away and mumbling,

 

“I w—wasn’t planning on saying anything to—“ he paused and swallowed. “I’m bad at this kind of thing, Bruce. And I’m not exactly his… type.”

 

And _wow,_ if Bruce thought _Tony_ was being stupid, that was nothing on how Steve was acting about this. Tony practically asked Steve to bed every time they had a conversation. As if Steve read his mind, he quickly added,

 

“He jokes around with me a lot. But he just does it cuz he’s thinks it’s funny, me being from a different time and all that jazz.”

 

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Bruce deadpanned, staring at Steve with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

 

“What?”

 

“Look,” Bruce said, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed wearily. “I’m going to give you some advice. Tony is down in his lab. He’s probably locked in but—JARVIS?”

 

“Yes, Master Bruce?”

 

“Could you override Tony’s security and let Steve into the lab, please?”

 

“Consider it done, Sir.”

 

Bruce smiled then turned seriously back to Steve, who was suddenly looking almost, was he _scared_?

 

“Go down into his lab now, and confront him. Don’t let him give you any bullshit about his dad or anything else. Ask him how he _feels_ and don’t leave until he tells you, alright? Use force if necessary, Captain.”

 

He saw Steve’s eyes widen and smiled, confident that his meaning got through.

 

“I—“ Steve gulped. “You’re sure about this?”

 

“Positive,” Bruce replied.

 

“Okay.” He swallowed again and, yep, there was definitely some fear behind those baby blues. But then Steve straightened up, his gaze set and fists clenched, and walked towards the bedroom door. Before he left he turned back to Bruce and gave a small nod and a smile, adding softly,

 

“Thanks, Bruce.”

 

Bruce didn’t even have time to reply before Steve turned the corner and started down the stairs towards the lab. Bruce heaved a giant sigh.

 

 _This had better work,_ he thought. _There isn’t much more of this I can take._

 

The next morning all of the Avengers were back at the tower. Thor told them Loki’s escape had been a trick on his brother’s part because he’d wanted some attention. Natasha’s mission had apparently gone well and was cut short. Clint eventually woke up from his hiding place and ashamedly ambled into the kitchen to apologize for bailing on dinner. Bruce hit him.

 

“Where are Stark and Steve?” Natasha asked after they had all finished breakfast.

 

Bruce glanced hopefully up the stairs leading to Steve’s and Tony’s bedrooms. The others followed his gaze and a few of them jumped when they heard a voice coming up from the stairs down to the lab.

 

“What are we all looking at?”

 

Everyone turned to see Tony appear out of the staircase, Steve right behind him. Bruce smiled, which turned into a light chuckle when he noticed their appearances.

 

Their hair was sticking up in odd places and matching. They both looked contentedly exhausted and couldn’t hide the little marks around their necks. Those were what really gave them away to the rest of the team.

 

“What the hell!” Clint screeched, pointing at them with wide eyes.

 

“Congratulations,” Natasha smirked, pulling Clint upstairs before he could do any lasting damage.

 

Thor went up to them and clapped Tony on the back, sending him jutting forward as he boomed cheerfully,

 

“I am happy to see that you have finally decided to act upon the mutual attraction you both have towards each other, my friends. As a god, I believe I am qualified to—how do you midgardians put it—bless this union!”

 

He smiled fondly at them then wandered away, leaving Steve and Tony to smile at one another, then bring their lips together in a soft kiss. Bruce just shook his head and cleared his throat.

 

Tony pulled away and walked towards Bruce, leaving Steve to trail behind him blushing.

 

“Why do my friends always interrupt my kissing time? Banner, don’t say anything I don’t wanna hear, alright. I’m having a damn good morning.”

 

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Bruce replied, then shrugged. “Maybe I was gonna gloat a little, you know, considering that _I_ was the one who—“

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony waved a hand at him as he went into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee. Steve stayed by Bruce’s side and looked at him earnestly, muttering low enough so Tony wouldn’t hear,

 

“Thanks, Bruce.”

 

“Don’t mention it, Cap,” he replied. Then added, “Seriously, it’s kinda weird. Don’t mention it.”

 

Steve smiled and went to join Tony in the kitchen. Bruce just shook his head, mumbled “idiots,” to himself, and headed up to his room to give the two lovebirds some well-earned space.

 

 

Bruce wasn’t sure whom he liked better: Steve or Tony.

 

Luckily, he didn’t have to choose anymore.

 

Steve and Tony had their ups and downs and, because Bruce was the one they _always_ came to with their problems, he heard about all of it (most of the time hearing far more than he ever, _ever_ wanted to).

 

There were a few times when Bruce caught them doing some things he just _did not_ _want to see_ in the lab when he vaguely wondered if maybe his life would have been easier if his two best friends _weren’t_ fucking… but _that_ was another story. 

 

THE END

 


End file.
